


What Friends Are For

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: And Harry just wants Peter to be safe and happy okay, Brief mention of Norman Osborn, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Norman Osborn's A+ parenting, Peter and Harry are eleven, Peter is Harry's first friend, Pre-Spiderman, Young!Harry, mentions of bullying, offscreen violence and bullying, onscreen aftermath, peter whump, they're 6th graders, young!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Peter go to middle school together. Harry's dad is a huge sponser to the school, and so Harry is "not" given special treatment from the teachers. Which means that he is. </p><p>Peter is "not" given special treatment from his peers. Which means that they beat him up. </p><p>Harry's going to sue all of them. (Or at least, he wants to, okay)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Friends Are For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aloneintherain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloneintherain/gifts).



> Wow this turned more Harry-centric than I had anticipated.

"Now, class " Harry's pre-algebra teacher said. "Today is our semester final." 

Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment. 

He had forgotten that that was _today._ And while Peter had helped him study the general concepts, Harry was not nearly as confident as he'd like to be. 

Or as Norman Osborn required him to be. 

"Before we begin," Mr. Johnson interrupted his groaning class, "Can I ask someone to take this stack of text books to the library?" 

Instantly, several hands went up. 

"Harry?" Mr. Johnson asked, and Harry blinked, surprised since he hadn't volunteered. 

"Of course." He responded immediately, standing up. 

He approached Mr. Johnson's desk and stared at the hefty pile of text books in mild shock. There were quite a lot. 

"I understand," Mr. Johnson said very slowly, "If carrying these books to the library prevents you form being able to take the final, Mr. Osborn. I'll excuse you this time, of course." 

Harry stared at him, as the sound of his classmates groaning jealously filled the air. 

"Mr. _Osborn,_ " The teacher emphasized. "Is doing me a favor, and that's why he's exempt this time." 

The way that he emphasized Harry's last name severely contradicted that though. It immediately shut up anyone who was complaining. They all knew why exactly it was Harry that was chosen. And why, exactly, he was somehow being excused from a math final.

"Peter?" Harry called, looking around towards where his friend sat. "You want to take half?" 

Peter smiled at him but didn't get to answer. 

"I'm sure you can manage it all by yourself, Harold." The teacher gently but sternly ushered him towards the door. Harry scowled but nodded reluctantly. Peter apologetically mouthed the word, "Sorry!" from across the room, and Harry shrugged, shaking his head slightly. It wasn't like it was Peter's fault. Harry heaved the stack of books more securely in his arms and left. 

"Stupid Mr. Johnson." Harry muttered once he had left that hallway and was well into the next - completely out of earshot. "I'm allowed to go and not Peter?" He huffed angrily, knowing the reason why and getting angrier. "And just because my dad calls me Harold, he refuses to call me Harry." 

He shifted his grip on his stack of books as they began to wobble. "And everyone knows that sending me to the library instead of having to take the math final is just his way of kissing up to my dad too." Harry muttered to himself angrily. "What kind of teacher excuses a kid from the final just for taking books to the library?" Harry sighed. "Maybe I should just be grateful that I won't flunk it again this semester." 

"But," Harry mused quietly, "Peter has been helping me with algebraic expressions and that thing with factoring. So maybe I'd do better this time." 

The library was dark when he approached, the door shut, and no one appeared to be inside of it. 

"Stupid Mr. Johnson." Harry mumbled again angrily. 

Harry juggled the stack of books to the crook of his elbow and tried the door handle, just in case. He was surprised when it gave way and opened up. 

"Hello?" Harry called out to the darkness. "Anybody here?" 

No one answered. 

"Typical." Harry grouched. "Just typical." 

He dropped the stack of books on the front counter with a hefty _slam_ that echoed slightly. 

"I'm just dropping these off for Mr. Johnson's fourth period pre alegbra." Harry called out, in case anybody actually was there. 

"Should I just leave then?" Harry wondered and then headed towards the door. He paused though, hesitant. 

"If Peter were here," Harry thought, turning back around, "He'd probably leave a note or something."

He walked back towards the front desk and looked for a notepad or a piece of paper, squiting a bit in the darkness. 

"Come _on._ " Harry said impatiently. "What kind of librarian doesn't have post-it notes or paper or anything?" 

Harry put his hands in his pocket and leaned against the front desk as he pondered his options. 

"Peter would definitely leave a note." He repeated to himself. 

His fingers crinkled something in his right pocket, and Harry's lips quirked up. 

He pulled the receipt out of his pocket and turned it over. He grabbed one of the many pens from the desk and quickly scribbled a note on it explaining the books. 

"There." Harry smiled. "Pete's gonna be proud." 

And then he frowned, realizing what he has said. 

"That's so stupid, who would be proud of that, ugh, I'm an idiot." Harry groaned. "I can't tell Pete that it took me ten minutes to think of using a receipt. He'd laugh." Harry's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Okay, maybe he wouldn't _laugh,_ but he would realize that I'm an idiot... If he hasn't already..." 

Harry left the library door slam behind him carelessly.

____________________________

 

"Can I get started on the final now?" Harry asked, and Mr. Johnson gave an awkward laugh. 

"There's - there's not really time if you were to just start it now. You understand, right?" Mr. Johnson's smile was thin. "I thought I made it clear that you'd be excused? Sorry if you were worried about having to rush back and get started, Mr. Osborn. Obviously, I'll excuse you this time."

"Obviously." Harry echoed sullenly. He looked away from his teacher. 

"Hey, where's Peter?" Harry asked suddenly, not seeing his friend hunched over a test like everyone else. 

"Hmm?" Mr. Johnson looked confused. 

"Peter." Harry said slowly. "He's not here." As his face still showed no signs of comprehension, Harry's heart sped up anxiously. "Peter Parker. Brown hair, brown eyes, very short, with dorky glasses. The smartest kid in this class. My best friend. _Peter._ How the hell do you even lose a kid _during_ class?" Harry slammed both his fists angrily on his teacher's desk, making everyone jump at the sudden noise. They all watched, captivated, as the two continued to argue. 

"Now listen here -" Mr. Johnson stood to his feet, face flushed angrily. 

"No, _you_ listen here." Harry interrupted, pointing a finger warningly at him. 

Mr. Johnson sat back down. 

"Since I have been _excused,_ " Harry sneered. "I don't need to stay here. I'm going to go find the child that _you_ somehow lost in the fifteen minutes that I've been gone." 

Harry grabbed his backpack and angrily grabbed the abandoned, tidy backpack that belonged to Peter that sat next to an empty desk. 

The door slammed harshly behind him, but it gave Harry very little satisfaction. 

_______________________________

"Come on, Pete." Harry whispered under his breath anxiously. "Where _are_ you?" 

_______________________________

 

"Peter." Harry breathed out softly, as Peter's head swung around to stare at him in alarm. 

"Hey, hey," Harry protested, dropping the two backpacks to the ground off of his shoulder, raising his palms in the air, and catching the door with one of his elbows. "It's just me." 

"H - Harry?" Peter asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?" 

"What am _I_ doing here?" Harry echoed in disbelief, shaking his head. "Peter, what are _you_ doing in here?" 

"Hey," Peter frowned, "I asked you first." 

"Fine." Harry sighed, and gracefully sat down, crossing his legs and leaning his back on the door to keep it held open enough to allow light to stream in the dark closet. "I was looking for you." 

"What?" Peter blinked. "Why?" 

Harry snorted. "Gee, I dunno, maybe it's because you were missing when I came back. _And no one could tell me where you were._ "

Peter's shoulders drooped guility. "I didn't mean to worry you -" 

"Peter," Harry interrupted, sighing. "I know you didn't." 

Peter still looked miserable.

Harry eyed him thoughtfully, not knowing what to say. 

"So." He finally decided upon. "Why are you in _here,_ of all places?"

Peter grinned ruefully. "Ah." 

He scratched the pile of fluffy hair on top of his head self consciously. 

"I - might, " He slowly said, looking down at his twiddling fingers. "Might have a first aid kit stowed away in here." 

Harry froze. Then he sat forward abruptly, forgetting himself, and the door slammed into him as his back caught it harshly while Peter moved away from Harry hastily. 

"Why," Harry quietly asked, very aware of the way Peter had flinched backwards, "do you need a first aid kit?" He didn't answer. "Peter?" 

"It was my fault, really!" Peter blurted, wringing his wrist nervously with one hand. "It's not like it wasn't." 

"Peter." Harry gently moved his hand slowly towards Peter's reddening wrist and carefully placed his palm on it, preventing Peter from continuing to wring it out. 

Peter stared at that hand for a moment. "I - the other kids - " Peter stopped, biting his lip and not saying anything more. 

"What about the teacher?" Harry asked in a low voice. "What was Mr. Johnson doing while this was happening? Didn't he notice anything?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. He was gone. Getting the test documents or something. And he didn't say anything when he got back... or when I left." 

Harry cursed softly, and Peter's head lifted to look at him in surprise. 

"Harry." Peter admonished, a bit surprised. 

Harry couldn't help but smile, despite the circumstances. 

"Hey Pete?" He asked gently. Peter made an inquiring humming sound. "Hey, let's go to the nurse, okay?" 

Peter immediately shook his head, his hair flying about wildly. 

"Noooo. No, we can't do that." He protested. "They'll call my house, and then Aunt May and Uncle Ben will find out." 

"Find out what, Pete?" Harry asked, a bit more sharply than he had meant to. "Find out that the moment the teacher and I are gone, some lowlifes use you as a punching bag? Maybe they should find out! Maybe they can stop this from ever happening again!"

"No they can't!" Peter denied vehemently. "No matter what I do, they just... keep doing it." 

Harry's spine felt like ice. 

"What?" He croaked out, shaken. "They've done this _before?_ " He felt nauseous. "Oh, God, they've done this before, and I didn't _notice?_ " 

Peter hung his head sadly. "I'm - I'm sorry." 

"No." Harry shook his head as well. "I'm sorry. God, Pete, _I'm_ sorry." He sighed. "Well, shit." He pinched the bridge of his nose angrily, furious with himself. 

"Harry," Peter protested softly. 

"Don't you 'Harry' me." Harry responded wearily. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've - I don't know what I could've done, but you wouldn't have been all alone, at least."

Peter smiled a small smile. "Yeah, well, I didn't want you to know. You know?" 

Harry sighed again. "I'm going to sue everyone in this goddamn school." He decided somberly. 

" _Harry,_ " Peter rebuked sternly. "You can't just sue everyone in the school." 

"Can't I?" Harry arched an eyebrow. "Watch me." 

Peter shook his head, lips quirked in amusement. "Not even Harry Osborn can sue the whole school." He joked. 

And maybe if there wasn't blood dribbling from Peter's nose and a bruise forming under his left eye, Harry might have let it go at that. 

"We'll see." Harry said instead. 

______________________________

"Father," Harry said as he threw open the parlor doors. "I must speak with you."

"Son, I'm a bit _busy,_ " Norman Osborn chuckled humorlessly, not even looking up from the pile of paperwork in front of him. 

"It's important. And it won't take long." Harry persisted. 

Norman peered over his reading glasses at his son for a moment. Then he turned his attention back to the documents in front of him. "Let's hear it then." He allowed. 

"My school has been ill providing in safety for its students. I urgently need access to our team of lawyers to remedy this." Harry declared seriously. 

Norman Osborn flipped a page over. 

"I plan to approach them, inform them of their misdeeds and crimes, and sue everyone involved. If they don't have a lawyer - as I'm sure many of my classmates don't - I shall have the school staff speak as their representative during a formal inquiry as to why such harrassment could occur." 

Harry waited, breathing calmly as he stood with he hands behind his back. 

Norman Osborn looked up after the distinct sound of silence was prominent for a while. 

"Did you need me to sign anything? You fail another class?" 

Harry deflated a bit but mustered on. "No. I don't need anything, except I want your approval to proceed."

Norman chuckled. "Kids these days. Need their parents to hold their hands every step of the way." 

Harry bit the inside of his cheek but managed not to say anything. 

"Sure, knock yourself out." Norman shrugged. "Just remember - "

"- Always maintain the advantage." Harry finished, having heard his father spiel many times about the "Ways of being an Osborn."

Norman paused. "Good." He said approvingly, leaving back in his leather desk chair. 

"Thank you, father. I won't be home for dinner." 

"That's fine." Norman nodded, turning his attention back towards his stack of paperwork. 

"Also, I'll send the bill for our lawyers your way first thing tomorrow." Harry promised, and then he left the room. 

"Good, that's good - " Norman froze. "Lawyers?" he asked, swivelling around, but Harry was already gone. "Wait! Harold!" He stood up abruptly and hurried after his son. 

By the time he made his way down the hallway and had entered the living room, Harry had just left through the door. 

Norman Osborn sighed. 

He wearily pulled cell phone from his coat pocket and selceted the contact for his main lawyer. 

"Hello," He said calmly, "This is Norman Osborn. I'm doing well, thank you. You remember my son, Harold? He might be showing up at the firm today. Please redirect him back home. I'd appreciate it." Norman laughed. "Ah, he's not quite a teenager, but yes. Thank you. I'll have my secretary send you a fruit basket. Any allergies? No? Thank you, Stewart." 

He hung the phone up, any lingering smile slipping from his face immediately. 

"Dammit, Harold." He muttered angrily to an empty room. 

_____________________________

"Hey," Harry greeted Peter nonchalantly the next day, where Peter was waiting at a bench near the school. 

Peter smiled up at him. His eyes was swollen and a weird purplish blueish red, but at least his nose looked fine. He stood up and brushed off the back of his oversized sweater where he ahad been sitting on it. 

"If anyone," Harry said darkly, "And I mean it, Peter, if _anyone_ gives you trouble, come get me." 

Peter laughed. "Sure, okay." He made to go towards the school building. 

"I'm serious." Harry grabbed the strap of Peter's backpack, halting him in his tracks. "Even if I'm in P. E. and you're in English. I want you to come get me."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed together. "Uhh, I can't?" 

Harry smiled grimly. "You can. I gave a letter to the office from my dad. It says you can. Or else the school won't get its funding next year." 

Peter's eyes widened. "Your dad is blackmailing them?" He asked in amazement. 

Harry's cheeks reddened. "Well..."

"Wait," Peter stared at Harry with dawning realization. "It _is_ your dad that wrote that letter, right?" 

Harry shrugged. "What they don't know won't hurt them." 

Peter's jaw dropped. "Harry!" He hissed. "You can't just - what? Forge your dad's signature to blackmail the school!"

"Why _not_?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms. 

"You just - can't!" 

"If teachers can let people harrass you and bully you and assault you, and I can _harmlessly_ provide a means to end that, isn't that fine? No one else is stopping them, so it's up to me." 

Peter didn't say anything for amoment, and Harry was worried that he really should have asked Peter before rturning in that letter. 

"I guess... maybe." Peter allowed. 

Harry silently was relieved. 

"And if I can use my dad's influence to help you, don't you think I should?" Harry continued. "Why should I be able to get out of my math final bu. not be able to help keep my beat friend safe?" 

Peter's ears turned pink. "Your best friend?" He asked, smiling. 

Harry looked away, embarrassed. "I mean, you have to know by now that you are..." 

Peter laughed in delight. "Nope. This is the first time that you've called me your best friend."

"To your face maybe." Harry muttered, but Peter hears him and laughed again. 

"You're my best friend too!" He reassured Harry cheerfully. 

"Yeah?" Harry turned back towards Peter, who was beaming. 

"Yeah." Peter confirmed, nodding. 

"Good." Harry smiled. "Then trust me, okay? I just want to help you be safe." 

Peter rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Is that a yes?" Harry asked, excitement building in his chest. 

"Well," Peter said with a shrug. "You already turned in the letter, right? I guess there's no going back now; and we're in this together."

"Together." Harry promised.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by habitualparker and captainkirkk talking about a tiny, hurt Peter being discovered by a tiny Harry; and I had a lot of feels about that okay
> 
> (Especially them mentioning Harry wanting to sue everyone because that's both adorable and very Harry-like) 
> 
> This is a bit different than what they were talking about, but that's what it's inspired by


End file.
